Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Real First Kiss

My first real kiss, (the kind where we locked lips because we had tingles down to our toes and not because of Truth or Dare), was slobbery. I had my tongue back deep against my throat, like playing goalie in front of my tonsils, as his searched like a snake light around the cavity of my mouth. His tongue, a thick swab, brushed the insides of my cheeks and licked across my teeth. My eyes stayed wide open the whole time. I wanted to relax, fall loose in his arms like Scarlett O'Hara; but my best friend was watching through the kitchen window and his best friend was spot-lighting us with his truck headlights. So I stood firm, planted, rigid, and afraid. My first kiss was miserable, and so romantic.

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